Chapter 19
ATHENA
The gun feels cold and heavy in my hand. My fingers curl around it as if they've been waiting to hold this power all along.
Dimitri's kiss still burns on my lips as he pulls away. His eyes, so cold when we first met, now burn into mine with an intensity that sets me on fire.
I can't believe how deep I'm in. Days ago, I was planning to destroy this man. Now I'm holding a gun, agreeing to help him hunt down those trying to kill us. And the most terrifying part isn't the dead bodies outside or the blood on my clothes.
It's how much I want to be with him.
Dimitri walks by, grabbing his bag from the corner. His movements are quick, like he's done this a hundred times before.
Maybe he has.
Blood seeps through the torn sleeve of his shirt. A fresh cut across his bicep.
"You're hurt," I say, pointing to his arm.
Dimitri glances down. "It's nothing. Come on."
He doesn't wince or favor the arm as he slings the bag over his shoulder. The man was just in a knife fight, and he acts like he got a paper cut.
We step outside into the night, and I can't feel my legs.
We're moving. Walking. The ruins stretch out around us in the moonlight, blood still wet on the stones.
I keep pace beside him, numb.
I'm not sure how long it's been since he killed the last man. Maybe minutes. Time is a blur.
Dimitri hasn't said much. He moves like he always does, fast and in control. As if none of it touched him. Like all these dead men littering the ground are just another fucking Tuesday for him.
I try to embrace that. Take strength from him. My stomach churns when I look at the dead men, but I force myself to look.
They did come to kill us—to kill me—after all.
And the one who grabbed me... I saw what Dimitri did to him. Saw the raw fury in his eyes when he saw someone touching me.
And damn, did I like it.
"What now?" I ask. "Where do we go?"
Dimitri doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he bends down beside one of the bodies and starts digging through his pockets.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Looking for keys," he says. "Our car's out of gas, and clearly there's a tracker on it."
I watch as his hands check every pocket, every fold of clothing.
"Hold this," he says, handing me a wallet he removed from the body.
I take it automatically, trying not to think about the fact that it belonged to someone who was alive thirty minutes ago.
Dimitri moves to another body, repeating the process.
"Don't touch anything that might have blood on it," he instructs without looking up. "And keep that gun ready."
I adjust my grip on the weapon. It still feels foreign in my hand, but less so than before.
"You think there are more of them?" I ask, scanning the darkness around us.
"Not tonight," Dimitri says. "But they'll come. That's why we need to keep moving." He stands up from the second body, and we walk over to another. "I'm taking you to one of my family's homes. Not a safe house. A real home. In Piraeus."
"Piraeus?" I repeat. "That's back near Athens."
"Near enough, but not too close. My family has held that property for a long time." He moves to another body. "It's secure, and we can figure out our next move. I can contact my brothers, too."
I hear a jingle, and Dimitri stands. "Found them. Let's go."
I nod, and we start walking. Something about the way he says we makes my chest tighten.
"So, do all the girls in your life get this treatment?" I ask, trying to make a joke—more to relax me than for him. "Escape death, shot at, then whisked away to your private homes?"
Dimitri turns to me.
"No," he says with a smile. "Only the lucky ones."
"Ohh, I haven't really been lucky much in my life," I say as we come up to two black SUVs parked among a cluster of trees at the edge of the ruins.
Dimitri circles one, checking underneath with a small flashlight he fished from his bag.
"That makes two of us. Maybe Plato's house is where our luck begins."
I laugh.
"You know, years from now, I'm going to forget this was our joke, and I'm going to tell someone he lived here, and they'll think I'm crazy."
Dimitri opens the passenger door and motions for me to get in. "I'll be there to defend you if anyone dares to call you crazy, Alepoudítsa."
I hop in, then stop and look at him. "You'll be around, years from now?"
"You're mine now, Athena. Did you already forget?" he says and shuts the door before I can respond.
We drive in silence for a while, the SUV racing down the road. My mind replays the events of the night in vivid flashes. The gunfire. The man grabbing my hair. Dimitri's rage. The way he held the gun out to me afterward.
"Why did you do that?" I ask finally. "Give me the gun after? Test me like that?"
Dimitri doesn't take his eyes off the road.
"I needed to know," he says. "I know where I stand with you. I wanted to see if you still saw me as the monster."
"And if I'd taken the shot?"
"Then you would have lived a life regretting it," he says. His eyes meet mine briefly in the darkness.
"Well, even if…" I stop myself. "I couldn't have done it anyway. Not after everything. Not after seeing how you fought for me, twice now."
Dimitri nods slightly but says nothing.
After some time, we reach the outskirts of a small town, its lights glowing dimly against the night sky. Dimitri drives through some narrow streets until we reach a bar with several cars parked outside.
He parks and turns off the engine, sitting still for a moment, watching. Listening.
"What are we doing here?" I ask.
"Switching cars," Dimitri says, scanning the parking lot. "This car has a tracker on it too, I'm sure. We can't keep driving it."
I stare at him. "You're going to steal a car?"
Dimitri looks at me. "Would you prefer I go inside and ask politely?"
I roll my eyes.
"Relax," he says, reaching out to touch my hand briefly. "I've done this before."
He finishes surveying the area.
"Stay here," he says, grabbing his bag and reaching for the door handle. "Keep the gun ready, but hidden."
As he moves to leave, I catch his wrist. His skin is warm under my fingers.
"Dimitri," I say, the words catching in my throat. "Be safe."
"I will. And don't worry, I'll be back for you," he says, getting out and shutting the door.
I watch the bar entrance, the parking lot, my heart racing. The gun rests in my lap, hidden like he said, but ready.
In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. There's some blood on my cheek, and my hair is a mess.
I can't really focus on how shitty I look. I'm too nervous.
I keep my eyes locked on the bar's entrance, counting seconds in my head. My pulse pounds in my throat.
One minute passes. Nothing.
Two minutes. Still nothing.
At three minutes, I catch the top of Dimitri's head. He's moving between parked cars, staying low.
He pauses by a sedan, and just as he's about to reach for the handle, the bar's door swings open. Light floods across the parking lot as a group of men stumble out, laughing loudly. I freeze, gripping the gun tighter.
Fuck.
They're headed in Dimitri's direction.
My breath catches. I should warn him somehow. Do something.
But before I can move, Dimitri ducks behind another car, becoming invisible. The drunk men pass by, oblivious, climbing into a truck several spaces away. A few seconds later, the engine starts and they're gone.
Dimitri pops back up beside a different car—a small, dark blue one. He glances toward me and waves me over.
I take a breath and tuck the gun into my waistband like I've seen in movies, and get out of the SUV. I walk toward him, trying to look casual, as if my heart isn't about to burst from my chest.
"Come on," Dimitri says. "Why are you walking so slow?"
"I don't know," I shrug. "Acting casual. Never stolen a car before."
"Well, let me show you," he says and pulls some kind of slim stick from his bag. He slides it down between the window and frame, then pulls up.
He opens the door and slides into the driver's seat. I hurry around to the passenger side, glancing over my shoulder. No one's watching. The parking lot remains empty.
Through the window, I see Dimitri hunched under the steering wheel. He's pulled off a panel, exposing a tangle of wires. He works as if he's done this dozens of times. This isn't his first stolen car. Probably not even his tenth.
I think about my life before all this. How I'd never even considered jaywalking. Now I'm standing lookout while a man I'm attracted to for all the wrong reasons tries to hotwire a car.
And not just any ordinary man, but a complex, flawed, probably a little fucked-up guy that I just had sex with against an ancient ruin in between him killing a bunch of people.
I should feel ashamed of what I've become. But all I feel is power. Control. Like I finally belong somewhere, even if it's in hell.
Come to think of it, who isn't complex, flawed, and a little fucked up?
Suddenly, there's a spark and the engine comes to life, snapping me out of my thoughts. Dimitri sits up, adjusting something under the dash before looking at me through the window.
"Get in," he says, his voice urgent.
I don't hesitate. I pull the door open and climb into the passenger seat. The car smells faintly of cigarettes and terrible pine air freshener.
Dimitri backs out smoothly and guides the car out of the parking lot. Once we're back on the main road, he punches it, putting distance between us and the bar.
"No one suspected anything," I say—more statement than question.
"They won't miss the car until morning," he confirms. "By then, we'll be in Piraeus. We'll leave it so police can find it and get it back to whoever owns it."
I nod, watching his profile in the dashboard light. The definition of his jaw. The intensity in his eyes as he scans the road ahead.
The highway stretches out before us, dark and endless. Signs flash by, each one bringing us closer to Athens, to Piraeus, to whatever waits for us there.
My mind won't stop spinning. What will his brothers say? Should I be more afraid? Should I be panicking, thinking of ways to escape?
I picture his brothers, Ares with his cold eyes, Theo with that terrifying calm, and wonder if they'll shoot me on sight.
I let out a sigh. Instead of all this, I just feel this strange, fierce calm.
Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
And the crazy part?
I'm not afraid to go with him.
Not anymore.
As a matter of fact, I don't think I ever want to leave his side again.
Because somehow, in all this blood and chaos, he feels like the only home I've ever had.